Where Women Writers Meet, Mingle, and Market

A sacrament of purification to anoint my vagina to cleanse secretions rinsing the blood and the sperm away. The drugstore sold solutions of cherry, peach and strawberry. The beauty magazine promoted in full page ads, ” Clean and fresh down there.” It was “Cupids Quiver”, a beauty tool.

I mixed mine in the kitchen sink: a solution of vinegar and water. In times of need: after sex or after bleeding for a week I’d do the deed; mixing a heavy solution of Lysol in a red rubber bag with a long white hose. It was the stuff the janitor used to clean the floors in the bathrooms of bus stations. It was a secret that everyone knew, ” Lysol is used for birth control, too.”

It killed the germs, the sperm and the smell so that I wouldn’t bear fruit and my belly swell. If he knew about his he’d kill me if he didn’t he’d leave me. I felt the world of doom in the third degree lying in that freezing tub- my feet propped high on the wall as the warm water ran out of me.

It burned deep inside. It was almost suicide. To avoid disease and another child. I anointed my womb with germicide.